Mystery solved, but questions remain

CHAPTER 5: A CAMPFIRE IN THE WOODS

CHAPTER 5: A CAMPFIRE IN THE WOODS

February 12, 2007

THE MYSTERY ON THE FARM: AN OLIVER FAMILY MYSTERY In Chapter 4, Gertrude learned how William's mother died. She also learned that his father is not dead but that he and William have been separated by circumstance. Near the end of the Olivers' second week on the farm, James decided that the raft the Olivers had been building was ready to launch. It was a flat vessel constructed of two layers of planks. The boards on the bottom layer were laid parallel to each other and sealed at the seams with tar. The boards on the top layer were also parallel to each other but at right angles to the bottom layer. They too were sealed with tar. The edges of the raft were surrounded by a short wall about four inches high. James explained to his brother and sister that, once they all three climbed aboard the raft, it might sink a few inches below the level of the water. The wall around the edge of the raft would prevent the raft from being swamped. James planned to launch the raft on its maiden voyage after lunch one afternoon. Unfortunately, the governess insisted that Joseph take a nap after lunch. "But I want to see the raft float," the little boy protested, tears in his voice. James looked dismayed, but he consented not to put the raft in the water until Joseph was awake. "Let's go for a walk instead," he proposed to Gertrude. Gertrude agreed. She had not yet had an opportunity to tell James about William's mother and father, and she thought that she might tell him now. Then suddenly, as they set forth from the house, she was unsure whether William would like to have his story recounted or not. Instead, James speculated aloud about this strange boy who haunted the fringes of their life on the farm. Every day William sat down at the table for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and the Olivers often spotted him between meals somewhere around the farm, helping Mr. Walters with the endless chores. Yet he rarely spoke, and he was hardly a part of the Olivers' daily life. "He acts like we aren't even here," James expostulated. "You haven't been very friendly yourself, James," Gertrude pointed out. "Did you even ask him if he'd like to help build the raft?" James had to admit that he did not. "But he was so surly the day we arrived!" he protested. "I think he deserves a second chance," Gertrude replied quietly. The siblings fell silent. The big brown farm dog, not much occupied with other exploits that afternoon, loped up to join them as they crossed the wide, grassy meadow, past the pond and the grazing cattle, to a far copse of pine trees. Gertrude scratched the dog's ears absently as they ambled along. The pine copse was shady and cool and remote from the activity of the farm. James and Gertrude sat down on a log to rest beneath the canopy of drooping branches. The dog snuffled around at their feet. "Perhaps you're right," James finally acknowledged. "I will invite William to help us launch the raft tomorrow." Gertrude nodded, pleased. After a minute James said with surprise, "Someone built a fire up here." He pointed to a shallow crater dug in the ground, surrounded by a ring of stones. The pit was full of ashes. "Why would someone build a campfire way up here?" Gertrude wondered. "You probably can't see the fire from the house," James conjectured, twisting to gauge the distance. The dog let out a low growl. James and Gertrude turned their heads in his direction. He was digging frantically with both forepaws at something half-buried in the soft dirt. James got up to investigate. "What is it, boy?" he asked the dog. James knelt down beside the animal. The dog pushed at the object with his snout. James helped him uncover what appeared to be a tarnished piece of metal. "It's the missing pie pan!" he exclaimed, freeing the artifact at last. Gertrude came nearer to inspect their find. "I think you're right," she agreed. "But what is it doing way up here?" "Whoever stole the pie must have taken it up here to eat it, where he wouldn't be seen," James guessed. "Then he buried the evidence." That sounded logical, Gertrude thought. But it did not explain why someone had built a campfire here. "The pie thief wouldn't have taken the time to build a fire," she reasoned. "The pie was still warm, and anyway it was the middle of the morning." James considered. "That's true. Maybe the thief hid the pie because he had to get back to work or something and came back up here to eat it after dark. Then he might have needed the fire for light." "Where would you hide a freshly-baked pie?" Gertrude rejoined. "Anywhere you put it, all kinds of animals and bugs would get into it. Anyway," she added, "everyone was at dinner that evening the day the pie was stolen. No one snuck back out after dark." "Unless the thief snuck out after everyone else went to bed," James countered. "William has his own bedroom. He could have left the house without anyone knowing." "I don't believe he would do that," Gertrude insisted. "Besides, he still would have had to hide the pie somewhere until then." James shrugged, baffled. He had to admit that the two clues did not seem to fit together. "We should take the pie pan back to Mrs. Walters," Gertrude said, giving up on the mystery for now. "It doesn't look like it's been damaged. She can probably scrub it out and use it again." James reluctantly consented. They could look for more clues on another day. Maybe there was something more mysterious going on than just a missing pie! Next week -- Chapter 6: Adventure on the High SeasThis is a presentation of the South Bend Tribune Newspapers In Education program.